The 68th Hunger Games
by shoot-for-the-stars845
Summary: Elle is passive, sympathetic. She is just not cut out for these Games. And Cyrus begins to realize that. He wasn't gonna let it bother him, but when he looked into her sad green eyes, he knew that Eleanor Berry must live, even if it meant he had to die. (hints at OC/Finnick)
1. one-the reaping

My mother was quiet. Combing my hair gently with her fingers, getting me ready for today. The smell of the sea calmed me on days like this. The days that my name would be thrown into the bowl, ripe for picking. Axis, my brother, his name was out of the bowl. His 19th birthday making him now ineligible to be reaped. He was standing right beside me, holding my hand, allowing me to squeeze when the tangles were stubborn against Mom's fingers.

"Listen, Elle. You remember what I told you, right?" I squinted my eyes, calmly nodding behind the pain. Axis continued, "No matter who's name gets picked, don't volunteer."

He's referring to our cousin, Faith. To my best friend, Cherry.

"I know, Ax." I grunted out. "You don't need to tell me this every year. And you don't need to pretend that if Sev was picked, you wouldn't have volunteered." Sev wasn't just a friend. He was a brother to Ax, and if they weren't both 19 already, there was no question whether or not they would volunteer for each other.

"That's different and you know it." He said darkly.

Career camp. Sev and Axis were both members. Training for the day they could be picked for reaping. That camp was disgusting. It justified why Ax and Sev would be okay in the Games. Careers always win the Game. Most of the time.

"Elle, listen to your brother please." Mom spoke softly, almost blending in with the hum of the room. Dad was out at work, surely on his way back, off for this 'wonderous' holiday. All of Panem stops work today.

They give me this speech every year. From when I was 12, to now, 16, and still required to put my name in the bowl. All because the first year, I tried to take the place of Dee, the girl in my class with a stutter. If Cherry didn't put her hand over my mouth, I would've been the one dead by the first 10 minutes of the game. No one else tried to volunteer. Usually there are a few volunteers, with us being a Career district. Unfortunately for Dee, everyone was all out of sympathy.

Our district is typically great in the Games. Always the top 4, ironic to our name. We've also harbored some of the most memorable contestants. Some of our winners still valid in the Capitol. Finnick Odair, the youngest male tribute to ever win the games, at 14, was from my district. He was definitely something interesting to watch. I was 13 when he was reaped for the games. Technically, he's still eligible to be reaped, but no one would ever put the name of someone who already survived the game back in the bowl.

Dee was a prime example of why my family is scared silly of my involvement with the reaping. I had never tried to volunteer after that year, but everyone knows of my sensitive outlook on these games. There is no right for a girl that young to ever have to be subjected to that game. Thinking of Dee, and the way her life ended makes me shudder, shifting my grip on Axis' hand.

The door to our modest home opened quietly, everyone on their toes today. My dad especially. He is a fisherman, always out on the boat, but today, the uneasiness of Reaping day, made even the workers, well out of their teen years, unable to concentrate on anything but the children. Don't get me wrong, there's a lot of pride in the Games from district 4, but even the most skilled fighters don't always make it out alive. I listened as he hummed solemnly, moving into the kitchen. I knew he wouldn't say anything to me, so I ignored him and focused on my hair.

I know for a fact, the minute I enter the arena, I'm dead. There was no time for training for me, not when my parents denied every possibility of me actually going to the Games. No, I was more passive, more sensitive than most of the girls my age.

When my mom finished my hair, Axis left the house, surely on his way to see Sev. I didn't blame him. Today was the dullest day of the year. Not even the sailors, jolly and rich as they were, had a mood for the tunes they sing on the boat.

"Mom, you know that I love you, right?" We don't throw that word around too often in the house. Affection was something that seemed to die out with the uprisings. There was no more time for love. At least, not to my parents. Although, today felt like the right time to say it.

My mother, looking at me with sad green eyes, only kissed my forehead, putting a bow in my hair to finish it off. It was gentle waves, natural and blonde and pulled into a high pony, and the bow was the only way my mother could look at me on this day. It reminded her that I'm still a child, innocent and untouched by the world.

She left me and my brother's room, giving me privacy to put on my Reaping dress. It was the same one from every year. Most people wear the same clothes, as it doesn't seem like the time for shopping during this time a year. As long as it still fit mostly, my mother never bothered for a new one, and that was fine with me.

I slipped it on, feeling the typical tightness of the pale blue fabric against my growing body. It doesn't quite fit as it usually does in my chest and hips. I'm not the most fed in the district, but our family does well enough, and with my womanhood growing in, it didn't surprise me that the dress was snug.

I didn't let it bother me, lowering myself to my knees to find those same white sandals I always wear.

There was a knock on my door as I was getting up. I gave a hum to signal that I was decent, and looked at the doorway to see my father peak his head in.

"Do you have everything you need, Eleanor?" He was in a rush, wanting to get there and get it over with.

I nodded, straightening out the bow and the dress. "It's going to be okay." I almost whispered.

He nodded in return, giving a half smile. We almost didn't look related. His features contrasted Axis, my mom, and I's appearance completely. He was a dark, burly man, with deep brown curls and a full beard. A shadow was always cast on his face, making his brown eyes a million times darker. Axis and I had inherited our mother's lighter look. Blonde hair, green eyes so light they were almost blue, and pale complexion. I suppose I was a bit more bigger boned due to my father. I was far skinnier than him. Mostly due to never eating as much food as they did. I didn't really like fish.

Time seemed to escape me the rest of the morning, because when I finally popped back out of my own thoughts, I was getting my finger pricked. That was always the worst part. I was almost happy not to have been paying too much attention. The Peacekeepers in our district kept us in line, tending to us and separating us into our age groups. There was a quiet buzz in the line, teens making small talk, not seeming to realize that they were all at stake. Most of the boys didn't seem to care. They had all been training for this moment all their lives. Some agree to put their names in more than their required time, not for the food, but for the thrill of it.

I caught sight of a few boys from my class, hoping none of them would ever see the insides of the arena.

Cherry walked up to me, right after I watched them put my name in the bowl four times. She looked pretty. Compared to most of the girls in our year, she was the prettiest of them all. Her hair was a natural red, matching her flaming eyes, brown enough to look auburn. Her lips were a natural dark red, with a collection of freckles ranging from her nose, to the tip of her chin.

"Elle." There was no need for other words. She was nervous, and anyone could tell.

"You put your name in for the Tesserae." It wasn't a question, but she still answered.

"Yes."

I didn't blame her. Her parents weren't as well off as my family. Her father gutted fish. Her mom was unemployed. They really did need the money.

We didn't say other words. The rest of our waiting time was spent hand in hand. I didn't even bother searching for my parents in the crowd, I know they already found me, standing in line with the other 16 year olds.

The more waiting we did, the more I noticed these sandals I've had since I was 12, didn't fit as well as they used to.

Soon enough, our district escort came up to the stage, a permanent smile etched onto her face. Sunny Estrange. Her name was unfitting. She sure enough was sunny, but her appearance said more moon, white hair slicked all the way down to her butt, dark blue surrounding her almost black eyes, and a peachy blush formed two perfect circles on her cheeks. Her lips were as white as her hair.

"Good morning to my favorite district in all of Panem!" I wasn't sure if her voice really matched her appearance. She had a very light and airy tone, almost like a child. But it was clear that her age was well over 30. She did differ from last year's escort. He was nothing but a pig in sheep's clothing.

There was no answer from anyone in the crowd. Except for maybe that of a few huffs from the boys. Sunny shifted quite uncomfortably at the podium. She didn't let that break her disposition, continuing to smile.

I zoned out for most of the introduction, and especially for that video of President Snow that they show every year. My hand began to sweat, but Cherry still held on. I stole a glance at her. She was intently listening to every word. Nervously biting her lip.

I scanned the small crowd up at the front of the group by the stage. The previous victors. One of them was the great Finnick himself. I wasn't surprised when I saw him with a superficial smile on his face. Every year he stands up there, quietly watching, taking everything in. And every year, his face turns from beautiful bliss to sour bitterness. Anyone with eyes can tell he hated the Games. But still, the cameras loved him, so he was always prepared to show the Capitol flare and poise.

Sunny was finished with the obligatory introductions, allowing herself a minute for composure before beginning the part everyone was really waiting for. "Shall we start with the ladies?" There was no response. Sunny must've taken that as a no, because she moved to the men's bowl instead. "Gentlemen it is."

I stared over at the big ocean of boys right across from us. They all hid their emotions well, except for some. It was obvious to see who had participated in the Career training and who had not.

Sunny unfolded the paper quite loudly. Probably to make sure everyone was paying attention. When the paper was within reading condition, she took out a pair of the tinniest glasses I'd ever seen and pushed them so far up her bridge that her eyes were almost cut in half. She breathed in, "Cyrus Islan."

There was an uncomfortable cough, and I whipped my head over with everyone else to see who had been reaped. A tall boy, lean but muscular sauntered out of the group of 18 year olds. He looked confident. I envied that.

I didn't recognize him, but he was surely almost as handsome as Finnick. There was a dark aura around him, but he played it off, giving a mysterious vibe to any camera that managed to focus in on him. I knew immediately that Cyrus was going to be popular in the capitol. The citizens there can't pass off a pretty face.

He glided across the stage, and it was almost as if his feet never touched the ground. I wondered how he hid his emotions so well, or if he just didn't care that his name was just picked.

"We love that confident attitude!" Sunny said pointlessly. "Everyone better take his example in the upcoming years." She moved back to the bowls, this time to the girls. "Let's find our lucky lady."

I hate when escorts treat this as if it's really a lottery. Like there's something to gain here. Capitol people will never understand how truly terrifying this whole experience is. How watching the games could still scare someone, just with the fact of knowing that it could've been them.

I quickly closed my eyes, counting to 10 to calm my nerves as she took her sweet time unfolding the paper. I prayed to whoever might hear that it wasn't Cherry. It wasn't my cousin, it wasn't my classmates, that it wasn't anyone. As much as my mind wished, I knew in a matter of moments there would be a split through someone's family. A change to someone's life-

"Eleanor Berry."

My eyes shot open, and I heard a struggled whimper from next to me. The grip on my hand was almost deadly. But nothing else mattered. It was my name.

There was a loud sob from across the crowd, surely my mother. And my stomach dropped all the way down to my feet. Despite all of this, my face was empty. I gave myself one more second to hold Cherry's hand.

The next thing I know I was on the stage, shaking a new hand. That of Cyrus'. He looked at me with sad eyes.

"Before we say our goodbye's, are there any volunteers in the crowd?"

I couldn't see anything. My vision was blurred, and time nearly stopped. Nobody stepped forward for me or Cyrus. Probably because from the expression on our faces, we looked like we could handle it.

I hadn't noticed I was still holding onto the boy's hand until he gave it a sympathetic squeeze and pulled it away.

I remember being dragged off the stage by the Peacekeepers, following Sunny to the district office. I remember a million thoughts running through my mind, but none of them had any value to them. And I remember refusing to see anybody. I didn't allow my parents to say goodbye, not my brother, and not Cherry. I couldn't face them. I couldn't see them. I could barely allow thoughts of them to reach my mind. I was going to be dead. Seeing them would've been a reminder.


	2. two- train ride

It wasn't long after the district building that Sunny escorted me and Cyrus to the train that would soon take me from my home to the Capitol. I had decided in the holding room provided in the district building that there would be no tears. My family would not see me cry, they would not see me weak. When I die in the games, I will die braver than anyone could have imagined.

I hadn't felt the true sting of what had happened quite yet. Not the reaping, not the fact that I hadn't even said goodbye to my family.

Cyrus hasn't said a word since he left. He didn't look like the sorry type, but when I caught a glance at him coming out from the district building, his eyes were red and puffy, and a nice cool blush had formed on his nose and ears. I hadn't imagined that this could be hard for him, not with the cool, composed structure that he displayed during the reaping. I guess it hadn't occurred that he was as shocked and upset as I was.

My bow, tied tightly in my hair, felt heavy. I wanted nothing more to rip it out of my hair, not interested with the accessory that gave me a more 'youthful' appearance. Youthful didn't seem like it mattered anymore, not when I'm entered in a game where I either kill other children, or be killed by children.

Despite my obvious disgust in these games, the minute I walked out of that justice building only moments before settling on this train, I took a split second to get myself together. I didn't cry in my private room where I should've said goodbye to my family. I didn't even make a sound. I gave myself one second to be upset, and then after that I thought about what I have to do to survive the longest that I could. Not only in the games, but in the Capitol, and away from home.

The first thought that crossed my mind was immediate star attitude. From the years I've been watching the games, the tributes who did the best were the ones who not only fought well, but played the game that truly mattered in the eyes of the Capitol. They were interesting, bright eyed, and relatable. They played the audiences hearts, minds, and personality. They appealed to the Capitol. Finnick Odair was going to help me do that. He's been through it. If I'm going to avoid the blood bath that happens within the first 10 minutes of the Game, he's gonna have to teach me how to hide out and get gifts from Sponsors.

With that new mindset, I stepped out of that justice building with a soft smile on my face, shooting looks to every camera in sight. Giving soft waves, and looking as 'pretty' as my current state would allow. I needed to look like someone the Capitol wants to make it. Someone too pretty to die. It was a long shot. My hair was blonde, but tainted with the salt from the wind. Tangled and frizzy. My skin was hardened by the sun's constant rays. My skin too fair to tan, so mostly reddened by constant exposure.

I wasn't dirty, but by the standards of the Capitol, I was far from clean. Still... straightening the bow in my hair, I decided from that moment on, I was going to paint the picture that I was sweet, playing into my natural sympathy, and releasing girl-next-door-energy.

When the train started moving, I felt a soft vibration beneath my feet. The train ride was going to be long. The Capitol wasn't too far from district 4, but it was far enough to have to stay overnight on the train.

Without much speaking, I decided that the best choice of action was to take the seat across from Cyrus. We were facing each other but in no way were looking at one another. Across the row was where Sunny sat, and two of our chosen mentors taking spots with her. I was happy to see it was Finnick and Mags, the woman who trained him in his games.

I didn't feel like I could ever amount to Finnick in the fact of me winning the games. I did feel confident that when I got to the Arena, I would last as long as I possibly could.

During my empty thoughts, I looked at Cyrus, studying him for real. He was definitely a sight. He had soft grey eyes that almost looked blue, hardened only in this moment. I imagined that if he wasn't in this situation, they would be lighter, almost rivaling the blue of the seas. I liked to think that if we had met outside of this event, he might have been smiling, with bright white teeth, like pearls. I also would like to imagine that the wrinkles on his forehead would be gone, with no reason to worry.

His eyes were still puffy. It looked like if he wasn't in the room with all of us, he would still be crying. I felt so bad for him. It made me not want to talk to him. Not make him guilty of becoming my friend, then stabbing me in the back. Unfortunately for the two of us, that would be a literal scenario.

It honestly had seemed like the 5 minutes we'd been on the train was 4 hours. And for that, I was thankful for Sunny finally breaking the silence. It was kind of funny that I was happy to hear her speak, because the last time I heard her, she was dooming me to death.

"Alright, you two. Let's get these pesky formalities out of the way, shall we?" She smiled widely, and I feared that any wider, she'd tear her face in half. I angled my body to be able to look at her fully. I wanted to be as polite as possible. There was no need for someone's last impression of me to be negative. "This is Mags Flanagan. She was a victor of the 11th Hunger Games." I knew who she was naturally. It was said that a few years back, she had suffered from a stroke. Now, all she can really do is mutter her words.

"Hello." Mags surprised me by speaking. Truly, I didn't think she would strain herself for two tributes like me and Cyrus. There was no secret that she wasn't in the best condition. Her voice was sort of broken. "I will help you t-to the best of my abilit-t-ty." The switch between a breathy tone and a sweet and textured voice filled my ears.

I didn't do anything else but smile at the poor woman. I felt eyes burning into my head, and when I looked over, it was Finnick, clearly seeing how I would react to hearing Mags speak.

"I'm sure I don't need an introduction." He finally spoke up, his signature smile brighter than ever. "You two are pretty sorry excuses of a tribute."

I coughed on nothing but air, but it still caused me to put a hand to my throat. This also got Cyrus' attention. He looked over, an immediate look of scorn on his face.

"Big talk from someone said to help us." He spat. "That's surely gonna motivate us to win."

Sunny also looked pretty confused by this sudden comment. "Finnick, dear. We're not trying to scare them-"

"First lesson." Finnick swiveled himself to stare at us both, with a cool look demanding consistent attention. "Don't speak unless I tell you I've finished. Training starts now." He pointed to a television hung up in the corner to the dining car. "See that? That is your biggest weapon."

I looked over to the TV. I figured where he was going with this before he'd even said it. "Sponsors." I whispered.

Finnick laughed. "Exactly." He beckoned our looks back to him. I saw him reach for Mags' hand, giving it a squeeze. "You're in good hands." He said simply. "Now, your first lesson of this short week you have before the big event. You want love, attention, and most importantly; sponsors." He gave a look to Cyrus, making the boy next to me tense, and more angered. "You have potential, big boy. But one thing you _have_ to remember. You wont last 2 minutes in the Capitol if you keep that frown on your face."

Cyrus gruffed in response.

"Uh-uh. Try that again." Finnick demanded sweetly.

I looked over at Cyrus, who's cheeks became red with what was either anger, or a little bit of embarrassment. "Try and imagine a camera is pointed at you at this very moment." Finnick said. He raised his hands, as if he were holding exactly that. "Action."

Cyrus sighed, but obliged the mentor's desire. He closed his eyes for only a moment. I thought maybe he would defy Finnick again, but when Cyrus opened those gray eyes, a smile now occupied his face. His eyes were still empty, but for some reason, his look fooled even me.

"Great effort." Finnick announced, and to my dismay, he placed the 'camera' on me. I almost didn't realize at first, until he commented on my lack of reaction, "You had a great start on your way to the train. You had the right idea, but I want you to give a bigger smile, not just a half-assed one."

My brows furrowed. I did as I was told, however. Teeth opened, brows raised, and a slight crinkle to the eye. I pushed myself to look as happy as possible.

Finnick ditched the fake camera and began to clap, loudly and increasing in speed. Sunny, most likely wanting to join in on the action, began clapping as well. "Oh what fun!" She said charismatically.

"You might just make it." Finnick said.

Cyrus threw his hand on the table separating us. "What does this have anything to do with killing kids before they can kill us?"

While I jumped in surprise, followed by Sunny muttering an 'oh dear,' and even Mags looking uncomfortable, Finnick remained calm. I don't know how someone can look so collected all the time.

"Listen here. Cyrus is it?" It was obvious that he knew his name. "One thing you always have to remember about the Hunger Games. At the end of the day, nobody in the Capitol really cares about all the killing." He paused, giving us time to process his comment. "The Capitol wants to be entertained. That means, more than anything, you two have to pick a character, run with it, and commit to it. During the showcase, the training, the Games evaluation, and _especially_ during the interviews."

I applauded myself for thinking this in the first place. If there was anything I had the power to do, it was make people like me. I wasn't extremely popular, but people knew my name. Not for being the prettiest in the grade, or being the richest, or the most confident. No, I was known for being nice to everyone I meet, and for being smart.

Cyrus didn't argue about anything this time around. Deep down, he knew this was true. Every year they dress the tributes in luxurious outfits, exploit them, and make a show out of it.

Sunny nodded, not realizing that when Finnick said that, he was also referring to her. "You two have to glamorous! Take it from Finnick. Even to this day, everyone remembers him for the way he touched our hearts."

I blinked, looking at Finnick. "Is there anything else important to remember before we get too deep into this?"

Cyrus didn't wait for Finnick to answer that question, instead he asked another that I had never thought about. "If we get approached by the Careers, should we join them?"

To be honest, I wouldn't know whether or not I would join the Careers. I didn't see the point in any of that. I would be the weakest. The first to target within that circle of capable teens.

I looked to Finnick for an answer. He only pondered this, looking from both me to Cyrus. I could tell what he was thinking. 'Maybe Cyrus. The girl? Not so much.'

Before he even had time to come up with a response, Mags was the one to answer. "One thing that I've l-learned from my year and the ones aft-ter, is that no one will have your b-back better than the one who knows where you're c-coming from."

Cyrus shot his head to look at me. I turned slowly to meet his eyes. He studied me, my face, my body from what he could see past the table. He looked unsure.

"I don't want to slow anybody down." I said softly, lowering my eyes to look at my lap. "I'm not really cut out for the survival part of the Games. I can play pretty for the camera, but I don't see me walking out of this alive."

"Look at me, dear." Mags said, not a stutter in her words, but still the mix of breathy and sweet tone. I looked over at her. "Look at me. I'm a broken out woman." Finnick gave out a sound of disagreement. But Mags brushed him off. "It's t-true. Even when I was y-young and pretty l-like you."

"You're beautiful, Mags." Finnick interrupted. It was clear he respected that woman more than anything.

"The Games will surprise you. You will l-learn how to do things you've never even dreamed about." She smiled at me, sweet and loving. "The only thing that will stop you from fighting is yourself."

She looked at Cyrus. "Stick with each other. No matter wh-what you think of each other, you will have no one else to relate to except for Elle."

He opened his mouth, but closed it again, as if he didn't agree with what he was about to say. After a moment of silence, he finally spoke, "What happens when there isn't anyone else to kill? How am I supposed to kill someone who I 'relate to' when it comes down to the top 3?"

Finnick was the one to reply this time. "Mags is right, Cyrus. If you want an alliance, you need to consider each other. Being in the Careers will only get you so far. And if that is the path you want to take, take it together." He pointed his finger at the both of us. "No matter how hard it'll be, surviving will be easier when you have a partner."

We didn't have a lot of time to discuss that further as staff on the train escorted us to a different room of the train. They sat us down at a long table, and I was sure this meant we were about to have a lunch. I didn't know what time it was, but I didn't care to ask. The idea of food was attractive to me at the moment.

Sunny immediately reached for the glass of champagne perched at her spot as the head of the table. "One thing I can tell you, despite my lack of experience, is the more you eat, the more weight you gain, and the more energy you'll have for the games."

Finnick let out a bitter laugh. "It shocks me to hear you say something so helpful."

I was almost shocked he did something that wasn't charming for once.

Sunny scoffed, "They don't make me an escort for nothing. I have to apply for this position."

I couldn't imagine the qualifications were more detailed than being an unsettling amount of cheerful all the time. Setting aside my inner annoyance, I put on a smile. "I think that was a good piece of advice."

Sunny nodded to herself, smile on her face, and looking pleased. I saw Finnick staring at me and when I met his gaze, he gave me a wink almost as if he were saying, 'You're already playing the game.'

"Regardless of what I think, Sunny is right." Finnick said, motioning at the now empty plates in front of us. "Carbo-loading is one of the smartest things you could do. Gain as much weight as you can. The more food you eat now, the longer you can survive without in the Arena."

I nodded. It wasn't like me and my brother weren't well fed in our home, especially with my dad's job in the district, but being well fed doesn't mean we ate _good_ all the time.

I silently hoped they wouldn't serve us fish. I figured it would be somewhere on the menu, due to us being a big fishing district, but either way, my hunger was too great to be turned off by seafood.

To my pleasure, a tall man with a clean cut beard came out with a large tray of a dish that looked far too fancy for me to be eating. It was a wrap type of dish, filled with a white meat, most likely chicken, and a green vegetable that I wasn't familiar with. It was in a wrap.

He set it down at the table in front of all of us, and gave a courteous smile. "Pesto Arugula Wraps." He announced before exiting the room.

I was in awe, and I wasn't the only one. Next to me, I heard Cyrus swallow, eyes glued to the dish.

"Dig in." Sunny said with ease. She wasn't surprised with the dish, and I wasn't shocked. She probably eats this stuff all the time. Mags and Finnick also didn't fret over the appearance, most likely used to this treatment during the victory tours and other mentoring.

I didn't waste much time. Being the first to make a move for the wrap, I placed it on my plate, sort of unsure what the best way to eat this was without looking like a fool. I found my worries silly, as this was a wrap, but I grew a bit self conscious as I waited for the others to start eating too.

Finnick and Mags ate it like a normal sandwich, and Cyrus followed suit. I looked over at Sunny, seeing her use a fork and knife. It seemed pointless to follow her example, so I cautiously tried it the way the others did.

With one bite I wondered where I could get pesto outside of the Capitol. The sauce spread inside the wrap bread was better than anything I've ever tasted. I've had chicken before, on nights where I couldn't eat another fish. The combination of flavors and textures opened my mind to a whole new world. I tried not to be as superficial about it, but I couldn't help but be happy I got to eat this, even if it was one of my last meals.

Cyrus definitely agreed, because he let out a soft moan at the taste of the food.

It didn't take long for the wraps to be completely devoured, and I felt myself already more filled now than I've ever been. I lost count at how many I've eaten. Could be 2, could be 4.

Completely relaxed, I gave a sigh. My mouth was still watering at the previous taste.

"So... Now what?" Cyrus asked, probably eager to lay down as much as I was. It wasn't anywhere near bed time, but the approaching appeal of a soft surface called both of our names.

Sunny only giggled, wiping her mouth after finishing only her fist wrap. "I always find you little tributes so amusing. Those little wraps aren't enough to fill a rat, but you guys always seem content." She laughed a bit louder.

I couldn't understand what she meant until the door to the dining room opened gently and in came the clean cut man once again. This time, he had two trays in hand, and I thought maybe that was it, until 3 other servers followed him in, two trays each.

Finnick noticed my shock. "That was only the appetizer." He explained. I've never even heard of an appetizer before.

Sure enough, the trays were full of more food. More food I've ever seen in one sitting. Grilled chicken, salads, pastas, potatoes, and much more. There were so many options. I wasn't even that hungry anymore, but the offer of food made it impossible not to eat even a little bit more. By the end of it, I couldn't even see I was so full.

The food served to me was more than enough to fill me up for the rest of the week, and I managed to try everything.

After the feast, me and Cyrus were escorted into the entertainment center. Sunny told us it was time to watch the other reapings. That was interesting enough, but the effects of eating still had me in a daze. So I was dragged along, until I sat in a large couch, Cyrus perched next to me. Mags and Finnick took seats on either side of the couch, and Sunny took her seat right between me and Cyrus.

As soon as the TV was flipped on and we were shown the vast crowd in district one, my attention moved back to the task at hand. This was the first impression of the tributes. I knew me and Cyrus were going to be on the television. I didn't even want to see myself, but I was interested in the other contestants. Maybe it was the curiosity of knowing who might be the first dead, or the curiosity of figuring out who could possibly kill me.

District one was the richest of all of Panem, aside from the Capitol. They were raised killers. Most if not all have been training for the Games since they could walk. Similar to District 4.

I watched as their escort gave the formalities, introducing the games that nobody could ever forget. Then finally the reaping. Both of the tributes were volunteers, eager to enter the games, snatch victory, all of that.

The boy from one was definitely someone to beat. He was a tall, thick in muscle type of guy. He had a killer look on his face. I couldn't hear his name I was so distracted by who followed. The girl was even taller than the boy, with wild black hair, dark skin, and a smile that said 'I will kill you before you have time to blink'. I didn't know I was clenching my fists until my nails dug into the skin of my palm.

This surely was the most nerve racking part of the day.

District 2 was similar, there were volunteers, both looking like they jumped out of the womb ready to kill.

There were no volunteers from 3, but both of the tributes also had a dangerous aura about them.

Then, there was 4. I almost didn't want to see it. There was a part of me curious to how I really looked on the screen. If there was anything in there that could give away my completely inexperience.

I saw Sunny perched on the screen, just as she was when I was there. Of course, I mentally skipped over the inevitable speech given by all of the escorts.

"Cyrus Islan." Watching it on screen was almost as bad as seeing it in person. I watched as the boy who was sitting next to me was once again walking up to the stage. The camera got him from many angles. The one that was straight on, showing all parts of his face features, did a good job of catching his essence.

It was strange though. When I first saw him walk up on the stage, he looked stoic, calm and confident. The closeup of the camera showed a different side. His face was straight, but his eyes were all worry. He looked all around him as he walked up, most likely searching for family, or faces he knew. He was nervous.

I looked to my right, seeing him past Sunny's permanent smile. He was biting his nails, eyes glued to the screen.

I heard my name when I looked back at the screen. There was a scream in the crowd that I hadn't heard before. Then broken sobs. I had no idea where they were coming from. I couldn't remember hearing them earlier this morning.

The camera, however, found them. The screen was split in half then, one side, I could see me, walking up to the stage, completely empty. It was like watching a robot of myself. There was no emotion, no indication of what I was feeling. I couldn't believe it.

The other side of the screen truly broke my heart. The camera had managed to find my mother, fallen onto her knees, sobbing for anyone to hear it. My brother, Axis, was fighting his own tears, trying desperately to get my mother back to her feet. The sight that surprised me most of all, was the silent, dry cries of my father. His composure held up, but his face was distraught. I've never seen him do anything close to what he did in that moment.

It was all too much. Way too much. I hadn't cried earlier, but the tears pushed dangerously close to falling. I hiccuped, feeling something tight and sharp in my throat and chest. Even when I was up on stage, the camera hadn't moved from my poor mother. She was completely gone.

I knew in that moment, that it was a mistake to not have said goodbye. I would never see her again. I would never see any of them again.

I hadn't realized I said anything until Sunny looked over, completely oblivious. "What, dear?" She gasped when she saw my current state.

Tears had pushed past the wall, flooding down my face. "I didn't even say goodbye."

Cyrus was looking at me eyes open. I didn't care. I didn't even care that Finnick and Mags began to look at me, unsure of what to say.

"I'm so stupid. I never got to say goodbye. And now I'll never see them again."

I sobbed into my hands.


	3. three- cyrus

With the tears running down my face, as if I was almost melting, I didn't see how watching the rest of the tributes was going to be beneficial to me after all. Without a word to anyone, I ran out of the room, towards the closest door, not knowing at all where I was going on this big stupid train.

Finally, an almost empty room, only containing a few plotted plants and windows all around seemed like a good place to rest. I assumed this was a passing hall between different parts of the train.

Sliding down with my back against the wall, I balled my knees up to my chest. I wasn't necessarily crying anymore, but my tears wet my face and blurred my vision. I hadn't really thought about what my parents thought about this whole situation. All I knew after the reaping was that I didn't want to make this any harder on myself with emotional goodbyes. Now I see that it couldn't have made it any easier on them. Now they will say goodbye to the daughter they thought loved them. Now that I refused to see them, I couldn't imagine what they must think of me.

I sat trying to get the image of my mother on her knees out of my head. Axis probably hates me. For ignoring them, and pushing them away.

It might have been only 3 minutes of crying, but it felt like a year, stuck in my thoughts, trapped in a growing depression.

The door to the train car I was in opened, and I whipped my head up to see Mags approaching me, a sweet and understanding smile on her face.

I couldn't help but let her continue to walk towards me, knowing that if it was anyone else I might've refused the company. Mags was definitely not someone I could bring myself to turn away. I don't know her too well, but anyone with eyes could see she was too pure for this world.

"Elle..." She started, struggling a bit to lower herself to my level on the floor. I lifted myself a bit, so I could fully face her. "You didn't speak to your family?" She asked.

I shook my head. "I couldn't face them."

She nodded. Mags reached out a comforting hand to my shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze. "I didn't see my family before I left either."

"Really?" I know it's rare for a tribute to not use their goodbye time.

Mags let out a breath. "D-do you want to know about my games?"

I was a bit unsure if I could handle the images of her games, especially right before my own. She was, however, my mentor, and I guess any bit of advice she wants to give me I should take.

With my lack of answer, Mags took that as an okay to continue. "I was 16, like you. Nobody volunteered back then. Not even the Careers." She began, taking her hand from my shoulder, placing it into her lap. I was struggling to fully hear her, but I watched her lips, reading them as I went along. "I never expected to be in the games. I was only about 3 when they first began. W-when they called my name, I cried, right there in front of everybody. Peacemakers had to drag me away from my mother and father, who'd ran after me before I reached the stage." She locked eyes to the window of the car. "When they told me I could say goodbye to my friends and family, I turned everyone away, except for my younger sister." At the mention of her sister, I heard her voice break a little. Even more than usual.

"She hugged me and cried, and barely let me speak. I had only one minute to tell her everything I wanted to say." A tear fell down her cheek. "I told her that I probably wasn't coming back home. I told her that while I wanted to, and while I would try, I knew that there was a slim chance. I made fishing nets, and I was small and weak."

I watched her take a pause. Her voice was fluxing between louder and quieter, and I could tell that speaking this much was a struggle for her. "If it's getting too hard to speak, don't push yourself." I wiped a tear from her face with my thumb, and when she looked at me, I shot her a sad smile. My own eyes were still puffy from my own crying episode.

"Mags only killed one person her entire time in the games."

Mags and I jumped at the sudden intrusion into the room. Finnick was standing at the doorway with a straight, stoic face.

I looked at the old woman next to me. She nodded, confirming the information. "I went into the games completely unprepared. I had no sponsors, I was st-starving, and I had a wound in my stomach that made it so hard to continue." She paused for a second. In the meantime, Finnick had taken a seat on the other side of her, laying his head on her shoulder. "I had a partner, Faith." She lit up a little bit at her own words. "She was everything that I wanted to be. Confident, beautiful. She was a tribute from District 11. And Faith approached me, halfway through the games, with a question. 'Do you want to live?' She followed that with a why."

I listened intently, looking at Finnick on the other side of the woman. He was staring at me, studying me up and down. Mags continued. "I told her I did want to survive, but not for me, for my sister. I told her I wanted to see my family again, and telling them sorry that I didn't let them say goodbye. That must've been good enough for her, because she took me under her wing, and whenever she got a sponsor, she gave me half of what was inside. She was my best friend."

The ending of this story threatened more tears, as I held onto every word that Mags said to me. "One day, it was cold. The gamemakers sent so much snow that you couldn't see 2 feet in front of you. There were only three of us left in the game. Me, Faith, and a boy from District 1 who's name I can never remember. He had managed to get me good with a th-throwing knife. There was blood all over me, but most of it wasn't mine. The wound in my stomach was contained with the knife still in place. Faith, however, had lost an arm. She was losing so much blood, and I could see the life drain from her eyes. The boy was still running towards us, crazy with his axe. If it wasn't for Faith, I would've been dead." Mags broke into a sob, unable to speak as much as she tried.

Finnick gripped her hand hard. "Faith stood herself up with all of her strength and threw herself at the boy, getting an axe into the stomach. Holding him back as best as she could... She told Mags that she was going to see her family. With that, she bit the boy hard on the cheek, repeatedly getting axed in the stomach, and used her one arm to break his neck, using her teeth as the other hold on him." He stopped, looking at Mags. "Faith was still breathing. Even after all of that, she was a fighter, but she was suffering. Mags put her out of her misery."

I didn't realize I was holding my breath until I finally let the air in my lungs out. I was crying all over again, processing all of this information. "Mags..." I whispered, and she looked at me with brown eyes. She sent me a smile.

"Elle, you're not a hopeless case." Finnick said to me. "Nobody is." I turned my attention to him. "You may not want to believe this, but everyone has an equal chance at winning the games. It's all about what you do with your odds that really matters."

"I'm not strong, and I'm not sure if I can-" He interrupted me.

"There's no hope for someone who doesn't want to try." He said. "You keep telling yourself you're not going to survive than you're right."

Mags pitched in, finally calmed down from her moment. "Elle, do you want to see your family again?" I nodded. "Then fight for it."

There was a peaceful silence between the three of us. I wasn't sure what else to do now except for stand myself up, holding out a hand for Mags. "Let's go back to the entertainment car. It's probably still showing all the other tributes." I suggested. Mags gave me a proud smile, and accepted my hand. Finnick quickly got up too, offering his hand to her as well, and we both hoisted her up.

Finnick was the one to lead us out of the current train room, and while I was following him, feeling much better about my situation, I couldn't help but wonder about him. He didn't seem to say anything about his own games. Maybe there isn't much to tell, but I only saw so much on the television during his year. I wonder if something else happened.

We reached the entertainment car, coming back just in time for district 8 to be reaped. Sunny turned to look at us coming in, shooting me a sympathetic smile, almost as if she was giving me condolences for a death or something.

Cyrus shot a look at me too, but there was no emotion on his face. I gave him a small smile, I guess to show him that I was okay. When he saw the tug at my lips that was meant for him, his eyes opened a little wider and he turned away from me, eyes gluing back to the screen.

"What did I miss, Sunny?" I asked, hoping my voice wasn't too raspy from all that crying.

She seemed very happy with the direct attention, and squealed in excitement. "Well, my dear," She started, motioning me to take a seat again, this time, she slid over to the other end of the couch and opened up a seat in between her and Cyrus.

I was a little unsure about sitting so close to the boy, since he's shown little interest in me whatsoever, but I figured it would be pointless to argue, so I obliged and lowered myself onto the cushion.

"District 8 started off with a 13 year old boy named- Ah, what's his name again?" She was hitting herself gently on the head, as if trying to remember.

"Codee." Cyrus said quietly.

"Yes! Codee." She said, making it sound like she had managed to pull that out of her brain herself. "Poor boy. So young. He does look promising though."

I looked at the screen, seeing the boy in question on the stage. He wasn't as small as a typical 13 year old, but he was scrawny, with a curly head of ginger hair. I let myself watch the rest of the reaping, as another 13 year old was reaped from the girl's side. Her name was Ruby. She cried on the stage, and the sight did indeed break my heart.

I could hear breathing becoming a little uneven from Cyrus, and I couldn't help but want to comfort him. As Ruby sobbed on the stage, refusing to even shake hands with Codee, Cyrus' fist gripped the fabric of his pants. I slowly reached my own hand out and laid it over his, giving it a squeeze.

The boy next to me tensed all together and whipped his head to look at me. I didn't know what else to do on the matter, so I just said, "Are you okay?" It was quiet, and I hoped no one was paying attention.

Cyrus didn't answer at first, looking back and forth between Finnick, Mags, and Sunny. When he realized they both were immersed in the TV, he let out a sigh. "This reaping is just so fucked up." He whispered.

His use of swearing set me off guard. I didn't say anything about it though. "These whole games are- eh hem- _fucked_ up." I admitted. "Every year they hold this event so children can kill each other. This is so the citizens will be too scared to start another uprising. I think it only fuels the idea." It felt a little weird to be saying this to him, given the fact he'll soon be apart of the killing, but I wanted to get to know Cyrus a little bit. Talk to him, and see if I could trust him if we're going the route that Mags and Finnick talked about. Most importantly, I wanted him to trust me.

Cyrus laughed a little bit, hearing what I said. He read my mind it seemed, as he replied with, "Funny seeing as we're going to kill or be killed in only a couple of days." It was kind of nice hearing his laugh, even if it was a little dark. Cyrus really wasn't terrible to look at, and his voice gave me strange feelings in my stomach. It was weird to be having a silly little girl crush on the boy who will be going with me to the Games. Maybe it's because of the potential timer on my life that's giving me reasons to think about things we'd otherwise not have time to do in my family.

Mom and Dad always told me not to think about boys or relationships until it was time for me to start a family, where I would be paired with one of my father's friends or work to stay efficient and get a 'good and stable living' and yada yada. Seeing as none of that type of stuff really matters anymore, why can't I notice how attractive a young man is?

"I wonder if the Capitol would make such an event out of this if it was their children being thrown into the ring." I said bitterly, being extra quiet not to offend Sunny.

"That would be a sight. I don't think any one of them has worked a day in their lives. So I wonder what they'd do." Cyrus replied. He had a permanent smile on his face now. It was small, but I see it. He wasn't looking at me, still watching the screen, but I couldn't help sneak glances at him.

"Probably use high heels and perfume as their weapons against each other." I mocked, causing the both of us to break into giggles at the idea.

We were seemingly in our own world when Sunny stepped in finally. "What are you too going on about?" She asked accusingly. "We put this TV on so you two can get a look at your opponents."

Finnick scoffed. "Yeah like anybody remembers anybodies names anyway." He said, giving us the benefit of the doubt. "I didn't watch my opponents reapings during my time as a tribute. I wouldn't have remembered who belonged to which district."

I looked over at him, still an amused smile on my lips. Me and him met eyes, and I saw him shoot a look down. Cyrus seemed to have noticed Finnick staring too, and we both lowered our glances to see that my hand was still over his. I shot the boy next to me an embarrassed look, feeling my cheeks grow warmer and warmer. I shot my hand away quickly, placing it on my own lap. Thankfully, Sunny didn't seem to notice the act, and I was grateful, as she would surely make a big deal out of it. By the look of Finnick's face, however, I knew there were wheels turning in his head.

"I just thought of something." He said, sitting up taller than ever. Mags' attention was turned to us, her eyes shooting back and forth between me and Cyrus, and to Finnick.

"Oh, goody! What is it, Finnick?" Sunny said, growing excited.

I looked at Cyrus, seeing his eyes were glued to his hand, surely still shocked that my hand was over it for that long.

"Two teens from the same district, strangers usually, but brought together by the games." Finnick announced, throwing his hands up and moving them in a way that said he was writing it all out in his brain. I almost choked. "It's a stretch, and I'm hoping it hasn't been done before, but the Capitol will _love_ it."

Now I was actually choking, probably on my own tongue. "A relationship with Cyrus?" I said, almost a little too dramatically. Cyrus gave me an offended look. "Not that there's anything wrong with it, but why? What is that going to do?" I said quickly, hoping that way I didn't sound either for or against it.

Finnick shook his head in disappointment. "Wow." He started. "For someone who completely understood about three hours ago how the games worked in terms of playing the Capitol's emotions, you don't seem to get it."

I glared at him, not appreciating the mock. Although, soon the wheels turned in my head, and I understood what he meant.

Cyrus, however, beat me too it. "You want us to appear to the Capitol like lovers so we will get sponsors."

Finnick beamed. "Exactly! It's a perfect plan. You two, a classic 'boy meets girl' situation. Thrown into the games where you only have each other!" He clapped his hands together loudly. "Full proof plan."

Me and Cyrus didn't say a word, and my face lit up like a tomato. The boy next to me was the first to reply. "Okay." A simple answer. I was a little bit confused at to what it meant but he elaborated thankfully. "I'll do it. If Elle agrees."

Being put on the spot made my face get even warmer than it already was. All four of the others in the room looked at me for my response. I took a second to think about it. This could be dangerous, as I was already admittedly enamored with the boy. Him pretending to be enamored with me would make being in the games with him much harder. Especially with the possibility of him getting hurt. With that being said, I do think that this plan would mean that we would survive much longer, if we pull it off. With that chance, of me and him remaining together in the games, I would be able to do my best in making sure he wasn't the one dying.

I closed my eyes, taking in a breath, and finally opening my mouth with an answer. "Okay. Let's do this."

"Perfect." Finnick said.


	4. four- time to think

Thankfully for both me and Cyrus, Finnick didn't attempt to talk too much more about the plan to get me and Cyrus a one-up in the Capitol. He says, 'in time, the opportunity will reveal itself.' Sunny cleared that up to us by saying, 'during the organized reveal of all the tributes of this year.'

It seems a little sad to say, given the circumstances, but I couldn't help but begin to fall in love with the interactions I'm having with Finnick and Mags. They've done more than mentor me and Cyrus in the time we've spent on the train. They've also assured the both of us that the things we are scared about for the Games are things that they know won't actually matter. For example, I said I'm not physically strong. Finnick told me to dig deep and find something else that I was good at. Naturally, I started with swimming, seeing as all of District 4 are known for their knowledge of the oceans. I also told him I was fairly good at remembering information.

"That's going to be extremely important with the wildlife in the Arena. You'll need to know which plants will help you, and which plants will kill you." Finnick had informed me.

Mags nodded. "Th-the gamemakers know exactly how imp-portent the food stock is in the Arena. Therefor, they won't allow all of the berries to be completely edible. It make it less int-teresting."

"I guess another thing that I could be good at..." I started, unsure of how to word this without sounding like I'm overly confident in it, "I'm very fast."

Finnick clapped his hands together in joy. "THAT, my friend, is exactly the skill the both of you will need. Being fast is the same level as being a master swordsman."

Cyrus nodded, "Yeah I'm fast when it counts." He said. "Mostly, I'm quick with my mind, I'd say." I looked at him, he was picking at the dessert from the dinner we'd both devoured. Lobster tail (which was surprising better than any seafood I'd had at home), and the biggest steaks I think existed. I'd never had steak before, either, and it probably became my favorite food. "I'm quick with answers in my head. Which way to go, what to do, how to react."

"That is great. You'll be able to keep level heads in the Arena." Mags said, praising the boy.

Sunny smiled at the four of us conversing, and I noticed she was a little bit more quiet than usual. When I studied her, she met my gaze. Sunny definitely didn't look as painfully happy as she usually did. I assumed maybe it was because she had already made her point in establishing her personality. Or maybe it was because she realized that there wasn't anyone else around to see her disposition besides us. Either way, it was a little strange.

I didn't push it, however. I turned my attention back to the group. Cyrus in particular. I was still a bit curious about him. It was a little awkward just asking all of the questions on my mind. I figured though, with all the time we'll be spending together, I wanted to know as much about him as possible.

"Cyrus?" I started, causing the boy to turn to me, a questioning look on his face. "Did you know me before my name was called?" I was sure I didn't know him, but either way, I wanted to know his perspective.

He crinkled his brow in thought, taking time to look at me better. "I've definitely seen you around district 4, with that red head. But to be honest, I know your brother a lot better than I know you." He admitted, running a hand through his hair.

"You knew my brother?" I asked, turning a little red when he corrected me to 'know'. Force of habit I guess.

"Me and him were at the Camp together. He was a year ahead of me, but most of the training was the same at the end of the day."

My eyebrows narrowed at the word 'Camp'. "That Camp is so problematic." I uttered.

Finnick exited from his own conversation with Mags. "You think so?" He asked.

I nodded. "Of course I do. It's bad enough that anybody has to participate in these Games. But they have that Camp, encouraging people to volunteer, and prepare themselves to kill innocent children." I ranted, not even completely finished. "Those Games put the idea in kids heads that the Games are just- well- a game."

Cyrus shrugged his shoulders. "Yeah, well without the Camp I would be dead in the first 10 minutes just like all the others who didn't train." He blurted out.

I breathed in, feeling redness fall onto my cheeks. I know that if I wasn't all cried out from earlier, I'd probably cry again. Without the threat of tears, I could feel anger replacing it. "I didn't train in that Camp. Do you think I'm going to just die in the first 10 minutes?"

Cyrus stopped, "No, Elle-"

I didn't wait for his response. Instead, I just turned away from him, finishing the last bite of my chocolate cake and turning to Sunny. "I'm ready for bed."

She seemed surprise by the sudden change in atmosphere. Everyone was quiet, looking at me. I didn't like the attention. Sunny opened her mouth, as if about to say something on the matter, but nevertheless, she just nodded and got up from her seat. "I'll take you to your room, then."

She led me to the door, turning to the rest of the group before fully exiting. "We'll be arriving in the Capitol by around 9 am." She announced, and then we both left the dining room.

On the walk to my quarters, she stopped me in the middle of the hall. "Don't feel bad about what Cyrus said. It was clear he didn't mean it." She stated, lowering her voice for only me and her to hear.

I only scoffed at that. "You heard him in there, he definitely doesn't think I'm going to survive. I wasn't in the Camp." I rolled my eyes, pulling at my pony tail to let my hair fall out. I felt the ribbon that was in it brush my arm as it fell to the ground.

There was a moment of silence as me and Sunny stared at it on limp on the ground. Every inch of my heart was telling me to pick it up and put it somewhere safe. For some reason, however, my hand didn't reach for it. "This whole thing just sucks." I said, feeling tears threaten my eyes once again, giving me a flashback from only a few hours before. I felt so stupid and so weak. I felt like I'm falling into an endless circle of being put down, and picked up again, and then put right back down.

Sunny was unsure how to approach this situation, most likely never put in the place where she had to be the one comforting a tribute. She just swallowed nervously and cleared her throat. She opened her mouth as if she were going to say something again, but just like before, she closed it back up again. Instead, she just reached herself down and picked up my white ribbon. When she raised herself up again she looked at me awkwardly, seeing a small tear fall down my face.

I sniffled, waiting to see what she was going to do next. Sunny, still, didn't say a word. She only continued on her path to my room, clutching my ribbon. I let out a breath that I didn't realize I was holding. I was almost glad that she didn't say anything, just allowing the wall of silence to give me the feeling that I was alone for even just a second. I couldn't stop the rush of tears that fell down my cheek, even though I hadn't made a sound. I didn't even think of this as crying. It was as if my eyes were just emptying everything out that didn't leave during my episode from before.

I didn't want to cry again, and that's what frustrated me the most. If I was going to fight through these Games, the tears were going to have to stop.

I thought once more about my mother, her slumped state during the reaping, begging for her daughter to be spared. If I couldn't fight for myself, I would have to fight for her.

Sunny stopped in front of a door, it slid open, thanks to her and she walked in first. I saw her dark eyes looking over at me, expecting me to follow through. I obliged her and scurried into the room, not in the mood to notice that this room might've been filled with more stuff than my house. Televisions, screens against the window, and books and magazines. The biggest bed I've ever seen sat right in the center, surrounded by a thin mesh curtain, and supported by a huge black frame for the headboard.

I felt strange knowing I would be sleeping in this room when my family would surely be depressed in their little nook back at home.

I could still sense Sunny in the room. Turning myself to face her, I saw that she was nibbling on her lower lip. I was still confused to see her looking as nervous as ever. As if she knew something that I didn't that she was aching to tell me.

Sunny only sighed though, taking out a lavish looking handkerchief, and walking over to stand in front of me. She raised her hand slowly, using her handkerchief to wipe the rogue tears from my cheek. It was so silent that I could probably focus in and try to hear the others in the other train car if I wanted to.

After what felt like ages, Sunny pulled her hand away and bid me a quiet goodnight, beginning to make the exit from my room. Just upon reaching my door, her long white hair coming to halt with her body, she turned her head one more time to look at me. She closed her eyes for only a second before saying, "You know... I wasn't expecting this to be so hard. They told me not to get involved, just let the tributes unfold by themselves. Only speak to them about the events of the Games." She paused for a second, searching my eyes for a reaction. My brows were crinkled, definitely confused by her sudden emotion filled words. "But I should just tell you that you'll find yourself to be quite surprised by Cyrus if you keep trying to get to know him. You'll find that he really is someone to trust through all of this."

I tilted my head, shocked by hearing her say these words. "One more thing, Elle," She said, straightening herself out, attempting to bring herself back into professionalism. "He wants you to win." Without explanation, she left my room, leaving me alone with my thoughts unsorted.

I bit my lip for what felt like a long time, squinting my eyes in thought. Cyrus confused me more than ever. I moved towards the bed in my room, seeing a pair of grey pajamas folded nicely at the end. I didn't like the idea of getting undressed in this room, nervous to know who would be watching, seeing protocol cameras in each corner of the room.

When realizing there was no escaping the cameras, I decided to try my luck with the bathroom. I hadn't used the toilet all day, and I realized this fully when realizing that my bladder was uncomfortably being pushed and pulled by every movement. Exiting my room, being as quiet as possible, I managed to wander around the train enough to find the bathroom. I was careful to pay attention to the things around me, wanting to be able to find my way back to my room.

After using the bathroom, pulling on the dull grey pajamas that were extremely large on my body, I made my way out of the room. It was an extremely uncomfortable experience trying to change and then use the bathroom. Most rooms on this train are way stiller than expected. The bathroom, however, has the vibrating motion of being on a train more than the other rooms. The fear of water splashing up at me was worrisome to say the least.

Pushing the door open, I stepped out and immediately felt my face flush. I came face to face with Cyrus, who seemingly had the same idea as me because his shirt was completely unbuttoned and he looked completely disheveled. His arms held matching grey pajamas to mine and my eyes couldn't stop themselves from trailing down the exposed skin of Cyrus' body. I've never seen the bare skin of a man before. Not even my own brother. It's highly looked down upon to show more skin that your shoulders or your legs. Even during swimming, girls change far away from boys and wear wet suits rather than the Capitol's very revealing swim suits.

I felt my face so warm that I thought I might burn at the touch. He was definitely a member of the Camp. He was lean, but muscular. There were abs exposed by the flowing of his flaps. I almost wanted to count them, but upon that thought I was brought back to reality by an awkward 'hem hem' coming from Cyrus.

Immediately I gasped, realizing how inappropriate all the staring I did was. "I'm so sorry." I said in a rushed whisper. "I just- I've never-"

He smiled softly, obviously amused, but he didn't take any time to make fun of me. "It's okay, Elle." He said. He looked around him to see if anyone was near us. He then leaned forward so that only I could hear what he would say next. "You saw the cameras?" He asked, eyebrows raised with a little bit of worry.

I looked around me discreetly, keeping my head towards Cyrus but moving my eyes. Just as I thought, in the corner of the train car was yet another camera. "There's some in our rooms." I said.

He nodded. "I know. When I was walking towards the bathroom I saw them in every car on this train." He said. "It's spooky."

I couldn't agree more. A part of me didn't want to continue talking to him though, remembering how we left things earlier. It seemed like he had just read my mind, letting out a sigh and putting an awkward hand on my shoulder.

"Hey, Elle." He started, and I could feel the air become thick with more awkward tension. "I'm sorry about what I said. I didn't mean to upset you." He said, and took his arm away from me, realizing the touch wasn't helping the situation. "I'm so bad at apologizing." He admitted, seeing me not responding to his apology.

I shook my head. I wasn't really blaming him. There wasn't enough things to be mad about socially in our district. The only problems there were was money. And fighting with other citizens was strictly prohibited and would be immediately brought to an end by peace keepers. I assume that was the same in every district. "I think a part of me knew you weren't trying to hurt me. I've grown up with so much talk from both my parents and my brother putting me down because I was never in that Camp. Saying 'It's different for you than it is for Axis. He was in the camp.' I guess I just get defensive about it now, seeing as I was the one who got picked, not my brother."

I felt weird about being so serious, and so open to Cyrus. But it was a good weird. Mags was definitely right about one thing. Cyrus was probably the only person I could talk to in the games that could understand me the most. He definitely agreed because he smiled at me.

"Don't worry about the games, Elle. I'm serious." He said.

That reminded me about what Sunny told me before exiting my room. It made me curious about Cyrus yet again. The boy who got reaped with me, and the one who is involved in this plan to get sponsors for our district. I didn't dare ask him about what Sunny said. I did want to try something. "I want you to win the Games, Cyrus." I said, watching him closely for a reaction. He eyelids did flutter for a second, and I heard his breath hitch for the smallest of moments.

"Don't be silly." He said. His hand moved to smooth out the top of his hair, and it took everything in me not to look down at his shirt opening to reveal more of his torso. "You need to root for yourself. You can win if you fight for it." He closed his mouth tightly after saying that.

I felt myself become slightly emotional again, but I knew there would be no more crying this time around. At least not for a while. But still, a small frown played on my lips, and I leaned my head in to speak extra quieter. With the knowledge of the cameras, I couldn't be sure that nobody was listening into our conversation.

Looking over Cyrus' shoulder at the camera in the corner, I whispered, "These Games are worthless." He didn't move, only taking in my words. "I don't want to win if it means I have to kill anybody. I know it sounds stupid, but I think I can do it. Not kill anybody I mean. I'll make it as far as I can, but I can promise you this, not one person will die at my hands. I don't care how much Snow wants a show. He'll have to deal with it."

When I backed away I could see Cyrus' eyes completely closed, his mouth slightly open. He was definitely surprise to hear my words. "What about your family?" He asked, eyes opening slowly. His pupils were wider, making his grey eyes darker than ever.

I felt guilty at the mention of the three of them, Mom, Dad, and Axis. Nevertheless, I stood my ground. "I couldn't face them knowing I won by killing everyone else. I'll fight for them, but ultimately, I refuse to come home a murderer. I can't give the Capitol that satisfaction." I eyed him quick, still taking in his reaction, before finishing with, "I'll show the Capitol that I can survive without killing anyone."

I didn't know where any of this truly came from when I said it. Of course I wanted to come home to my family, and apart of me thinks that maybe I should just fight to kill, but the other part of me, the part that doubts my survival, is talking at the moment. Maybe it was because I know myself. I could never live with knowing that someone's life was taken in front of my eyes. Taken by me.

I want to fight, but what's the point of living if I have to live like that. Like Finnick, who has untrusting eyes, and Mags, who can barely stand to speak, traumatized by her winnings. I wouldn't want to live knowing that it's at the expense of others. At the same time, I can't just die knowing I didn't try. I can't do that to my parents.

Cyrus and I didn't say anything else for the rest of the conversation. He didn't reply to my announcement, and he didn't add anything new. Instead, he just nodded, saying a quiet goodnight and finally entering the bathroom like he had come there to do.

I feel like the place we ended that conversation might've made things weird again, but I figured we would eventually deal with it when we got to that moment. Instead, I allowed myself to follow the little checkpoints of the train I made with my mind back to my room. When getting there, I felt myself become so exhausted that the sight of the bed was all my mind thought about.

It still freaked me out immensely to know there were cameras in the train, but that was something I'd have to get used to. Knowing they were probably watching me sleep, I pulled the covers all the way up over my head, leaving me some room to breathe, and my eyes fluttered closed.

I dreamed of the Games. Most notably, me dying in the Games. It wasn't painful, but it was at the beginning when we jumped off the holding areas. It replied in my head over and over again, and I felt as though I couldn't wake up even if I tried to. Getting an axe to the head, my throat sliced, and the worst one yet, with a small fishing hook that I'd seen all throughout District 4. Every single time I called out to Cyrus for help, but no one came.

When I finally woke it, it was to the sound of my doors closing. Shooting up in my bed, I studied the room to see if anyone was in there. I sighed in relief seeing the room empty as I left it before sleep. I didn't remember actually dozing off, but the scary memories of the dream kept me alert.

I groaned, feeling exhaustion still washing over my body, and the brightness from the window irritating I closed them in hopes of maybe being able to fall back asleep, but with no avail, I gave in and allowed myself to fully wake up, stepping out of bed, shuddering when feeling my bare feet hit the cold ground.

I looked around the room, seeing in basked in light for the first time, not just dim by the lights on the wall. This place was dull, and I wondered why they even put books and magazines in here when there was really no time to be reading any of them.

My eyes fell on the dresser by the door, and I realized I must've woken up from someone actually exiting the room. There on the dresser was a freshly folded outfit. I moved towards it, curious to see laying on top of the fabrics my white ribbon. I immediately think of Sunny, realizing she never did give back my ribbon last night. Upon inspection, I saw the white ribbon shinier than ever, no sign of it being used at all.

My nose crinkled at the sight of it. I never pegged Sunny to be that sentimental, but the reappearance of my ribbon just shows there's a lot about her that I didn't realize.

After inspecting the ribbon, I moved onto the outfit, to see what I'd be looking like when I arrived into the Capitol. I unfolded it and walked over to the bed. It was a light blue color, and when I unfolded it I saw a long sleeve dress, that went down to probably right above the knee. It came with white frilly socks and when I looked back to the dresser, I saw black shoes on the floor.

I was definitely playing the role of innocence. Not that I was complaining. It fit exactly what I was planning for the Games.

There was a soft knock on the door of my room, and I said a soft 'come in' and looked over to see Sunny walk in. She gave me a knowing smile when she saw the ribbon in my hair and I studied her seeing she looked completely back to normal. There was an orange drink in her hand, in a champagne glass. I assumed it was alcoholic. "We shall be arriving in the Capitol in about 10 minutes. Everyone else is already residing in the living area, so get dressed! We have a big day ahead of us." She courteously exited my room, shooting a wink before disappearing behind the door.

I couldn't help but smile at that. She isn't like anything I could've imagined to come out of the Capitol. It gave me a little hope for who I might meet within those walls.

I looked back at the dress neatly laid out on the bed. I grabbed it and shot a glance at the camera. Heading to the bathroom, I caught sight of a few staff eyeing me as I walked by. Definitely sent chills down my spine. The idea that my every moment is being watched was not comforting, but I felt safer in the bathroom. I knew any film they used of us on this train wouldn't include being in the bathroom. Definitely not interesting for the viewers from the Capitol.

I undressed myself carefully, looking at myself in the mirror as I did this. I was hoping that with clothes on, other tributes won't see just how thin I really am. I did note the curves on my body, knowing that with food I would probably look pretty healthy by the end of the week.

It was definitely surprising to feel just how much the dress fit on my body. I wondered where they get these measurements from.

I studied myself.

I looked so tired, having bags under my eyes as a result. With my hair running wild down my shoulders towards my mid back, I looked much older. Since I was going for that sweet girl look, I knew it would be crucial to have my hair pulled up at most times.

With that being said, I guided my hair up with my hands, tightening it to pull the tired skin on my face. It made my eyes look wider, and made me look more youthful in the process. I tied my hair with the ribbon, placing a neat bow in the center, having a trail of hair fall behind me in a ponytail.

When the hair was done, I leaned down to the sink, turning on the water and running cool water against my skin. Placing soap in my hands, I lathered my face very well, getting rid of any and all oils. Finishing the wash, I lifted myself up again, looking at myself in the mirror.

_Presentable._

By the time I exited the bathroom, we had arrived at the Capitol.


End file.
